


say you like your shirt soggy

by crosspin



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 5 Things, 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, M/M, Nothing to see here, but they figure it out eventually, hakoda kind of knows from day one they'll end up together, just gays doing dishes, the boys aren't so observant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 08:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crosspin/pseuds/crosspin
Summary: “So you’re the new guy, then?” Sokka says, looking up from a clipboard with a smile as bright as sun reflecting off sea.Sokka doesn’t flinch, or falter, or do a double-take when he sees Zuko’s scar. He just keeps smiling.“…yeah,” Zuko says, feeling a little burned by the warmth in those blue eyes.Or, five times Zuko has help doing the dishes + one time he does them alone.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 95
Kudos: 1497





	say you like your shirt soggy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harnarius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harnarius/gifts).



> _"you could probably write 3k of the two of them doing the dishes and I’d lose it." - harnarius_
> 
> I know you were joking, but that didn't stop this idea from coming to me instantly. So I hope you enjoy it and I hope you don't have to read this on your Apple Watch!
> 
> Title is from [Comfort Crowd by Conan Gray](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWVU-pCBWi8), which is an incredibly Zukka song. I'm not saying you should listen to it on repeat while you read this, but I'm also not saying you shouldn't.

1\. 

They’re sixteen. Zuko is training for his first ever summer job, not because he needs the money, but because he needs somewhere to hide out during the days and nights when things get a little too crazy at home. Sokka is the shift supervisor who’s just a little too attractive to be as nice as he seems. 

“So you’re the new guy, then?” Sokka says, looking up from a clipboard with a smile as bright as sun reflecting off sea. 

Sokka doesn’t flinch, or falter, or do a double-take when he sees Zuko’s scar. He just keeps smiling. 

“…yeah,” Zuko says, feeling a little burned by the warmth in those blue eyes. 

“Awesome! Let me just show you around…” 

Zuko is _not_ cut out for life in the food industry, he quickly learns as Sokka leads him from station to station in the little ice cream parlor. He manages to mess up almost every part of the process, but Sokka never gets mad. He laughs, and gently corrects Zuko, and they work together until they get it right. Sokka never stops smiling. 

When the sky’s grown a little darker and they’ve locked the front doors, Sokka brings Zuko to the back. 

“Alright, I always leave this job for last, because it’s the worst.” Sokka gestures to the sudsy sink, which is stacked tall with dirty dishes. “At least now that there’s two of us, it should go by quick.” 

Sokka detaches the sprayer hose and passes it to Zuko as he grabs hold of a sprinkle-covered bowl. Zuko eyes the apparatus cautiously. He’s never used one before, but how hard can it be? As he’s looking down the face of the hose, he squeezes the trigger once, hard. 

Zuko realizes his mistake the second he makes it, but it’s too late. Even though he lets go immediately, he’s already soaked through his shirt. He whips his head to the side and sees that Sokka, too, is absolutely drenched. For the first time that day, his smile has fallen, and his mouth forms a shocked _o_ as he drips onto the kitchen floor. 

Zuko freezes. Ready to be fired. Ready to be sent home. 

Zuko doesn’t breathe as Sokka looks himself over and his mouth, against all odds, begins to curl up into an astonished grin. 

“Okay, it would be a little too Pornhub of me to take my shirt off right now, right?” Sokka asks, finally meeting Zuko’s eye again. 

Zuko doesn’t know what to say to that, and a moment passes between them – a look flits across Sokka’s surprised eyes – and Zuko wonders if he’s really going to do it. 

But Sokka’s face cracks into a massive grin and suddenly he’s laughing, howling so hard he can scarcely breathe, and it’s so contagious that Zuko can’t help laughing along with him until all the anxiety in his bones is forgotten. It’s the kind of laughter that seems like it’s over until it ebbs back up again, and the two can’t seem to get the dishes washed without breaking into a fresh round of giggles. 

“Fuck it, let’s leave it for the opening crew,” Sokka eventually says, wiping a tear from his eyes. “I can tell working with you is going to be a blast.”

2\. 

It’s a few months later. Zuko is celebrating the first day of junior year with a tray of cafeteria food and sick feeling in his stomach. Sokka is at the other end of the cafeteria, laughing with a big group of happy-looking kids. 

Zuko turns away. He’s been prepared for this. The spell of all the late nights spent together this summer is broken now that they’re back to the dull reality that is high school. And that’s fine. 

He heads toward the exit, wondering if he’ll be able find a spot in the library or maybe backstage in the auditorium to enjoy his food alone. He’s almost out when he feels a hand on his shoulder. 

“What, you’re too cool for me now?” 

It’s Sokka’s voice, and even before Zuko turns to face him, he knows Sokka is grinning. “Come sit with us. My friends want to meet you.”

Zuko sincerely doubts that, but he allows himself to be led to the lunch table that Sokka and his friends have appropriated. 

“So _this_ is the guy we’ve been hearing so much about,” says a short-haired brunette with a suggestive grin. Zuko returns her stare with discomfort. 

“Shut it,” Sokka says, without any real malice. “Everyone, this is Zuko. Zuko, this is…everyone.”

Sokka’s friends greet him with a chorus of _hi_ ’s. They’re smiling, passing glances back and forth between one another, and Zuko wonders if maybe he’s intruding on a game that’s already good on players. But Sokka takes a seat and Zuko mimics him automatically, sliding down into the chair on Sokka’s right. 

And it’s easy. Easy to simply absorb the positive energy of the people around him, and to let Sokka poke and prod him into participation as the conversation twists and turns down friendly roads. The only source of unease is the brown-haired girl across from Zuko – he knows by the blue in her eye that it’s Sokka’s sister – who can’t seem to stop glaring suspiciously in his direction. But, as Zuko basks in Sokka’s glow, it’s easy to forget about her too. 

The bell rings, signaling the end of the lunch hour. Zuko reaches down to grab his tray, but Sokka beats him to it. 

“It’s okay,” Sokka says as he stacks Zuko’s tray on top of his own. “I got you.”

3\. 

A year and a little more goes by. Zuko is sitting at Sokka’s family’s dining room table and experiencing his first ever Thanksgiving dinner. Sokka is sitting to his left, gesticulating animatedly and finding ways to squeeze Zuko’s accomplishments into every subject they broach. 

It’s amazing, and Zuko wishes he could never leave. 

“Zuko,” Hakoda says suddenly, with a tone that’s just a little too commanding for the friendly atmosphere. “Why don’t you help me clear the table?” 

Zuko obliges without thinking. Sokka stands too, but Hakoda shoots him a look. “Not you, Sokka.”

“He’s the guest, Dad,” Sokka whines. 

“Son.” 

Sokka seems to hear the firmness underlying his father’s words, and he falls back into his seat with a defeated huff. 

Zuko feels his heart start to thump hard and fast as anxiety spills through his bloodstream. He’s never been good with father figures, and even though Hakoda has done nothing to indicate that he’s anything like Zuko’s own father, Zuko still feels his palms turn clammy as he grips a stack of dishes and follows Hakoda into the kitchen. 

“Zuko,” Hakoda says again, conversationally, as they reach the sink. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, sir,” Zuko says instantly. It’s the truth, but his tone doesn’t make it seem that way. 

“Is this like the Thanksgivings you have back home?”

“Yes, sir.” A real lie this time. Back home, Thanksgiving is just called “Thursday.” 

“I see.” Hakoda starts running water over a plate. Zuko stands by in uncomfortable silence, waiting for permission to help or speak or run away to safety. 

“Zuko,” Hakoda finally sighs, not looking up from the dishes. “My son is very intelligent in some ways, and very unintelligent in others. Sometimes he has a hard time seeing the obvious. And I have a feeling this isn’t going to be your last Thanksgiving with us.” 

Zuko doesn’t understand how all these sentences fit together. He passes Hakoda some silverware and waits. 

“I’m not telling you this because I think you would ever hurt him on purpose. And of course, I don’t know how you feel about all this. But, Zuko, please,” Hakoda says, finally looking at Zuko with a hint of sadness in his eye, “please be gentle with my son. If you have to let him down, please just let him down easy.”

Zuko can’t begin to guess what Hakoda might mean. 

“Yes, sir,” Zuko repeats for a third time, faint voice barely audible over the running water. 

“Atta boy,” Hakoda says, finally smiling at him. Zuko sees Sokka in the glint of his eye and the curve of his mouth. “Why don’t you get back out there? I can handle this,” he says, gesturing to the mess permeating every corner of the kitchen. 

“Yes, sir,” Zuko says, relieved to be free of the weight of their confusing conversation. He turns and darts from the kitchen, wondering if that was some sort of test and, if so, whether he’s passed it. 

“ _There_ you are,” Sokka exclaims, beaming at the sight of Zuko. And Hakoda’s strange words are quickly forgotten. 

4\. 

They’re midway through their sophomore year of college. Zuko is bundled under his covers with all the lights in his dorm room off, wishing the bed would swallow him whole. Sokka is pounding on the door with as much ferocity as he had when he started five minutes ago. 

“ _Zuko!_ I know you’re in there!” 

Zuko doesn’t move. Sokka has to give up eventually, right?

“Could you shut the fuck up?” Zuko hears the faint voice of his neighbor from down the hall. 

“Fuck off,” Sokka says matter-of-factly before returning to his banging. “ _ZUKO!_ ” 

It seems like ignoring Sokka isn’t going to work. 

“ _GO AWAY!_ ” Zuko shouts back finally, hoping it will do the trick. But instead of abating, the knocks grow even louder. 

“I’m not going away until you tell me what’s wrong!” 

“I’m calling the RA,” Zuko’s neighbor says. 

“Will you _please_ shut the fuck up?” Sokka shoots back. “Zuko, your neighbors are getting pretty upset. You might want to let me in.”

“ _Sokka_ – ”

“I could do this all night!”

And Zuko knows he could. 

He musters up the strength to roll out of bed. Still wrapped in his covers, he plods over to the door and opens it, just a crack. 

Sokka sees an inch and takes a mile. He flings the door open and flicks on the light switch. Zuko watches the triumph on his face turn to concern as he takes in the filthy dump that is Zuko’s dorm room and then Zuko himself, who looks like he hasn’t bathed, eaten or seen sunlight for an unacceptable amount of time. 

“Would you please tell me what’s going on with you?” Sokka pleads. “You haven’t been to lecture in a week, you haven’t been answering my calls…Please, _please_ just tell me what’s going on. Is it something I did?” 

“No,” Zuko says simply, turning and crawling back into bed. 

Sokka doesn’t press him. Instead he looks around the disgusting bedroom and starts cleaning up. He throws Zuko’s dirty clothes into the hamper and his empty food wrappers into the trash. He disappears with an armful of Zuko’s used coffee mugs and cereal bowls and then returns with the clean ceramics stacked in neat piles. He opens up the window and lets the outside air in. 

“Zuko?” Sokka tries again. 

Zuko pulls the covers over his head. 

Suddenly he feels the mattress give, and a body is joining him under the covers. Sokka maneuvers himself so he’s a little bit underneath Zuko, positioning Zuko’s head on his chest and wrapping both arms around Zuko’s shoulders. Only here, speaking just to Sokka and the blankets, can Zuko manage to name what’s keeping him trapped there. 

“It’s Jet,” he admits. 

Just that is enough to thrust open the floodgates Zuko has been desperately trying to keep closed. Zuko dissolves into tears, sobbing manically against Sokka’s t-shirt. Sokka doesn’t seem to mind. He just keeps rubbing Zuko’s back, murmuring promises like “It’s okay, it’s alright, you’re going to be okay.”

When the worst of it is out, Zuko says with a sniffle, “I don’t know what’s worse, that I got cheated on and dumped, or that now I’m crying like an idiot over someone who cheated on and dumped me.” 

“ _No,_ no, you’re not an idiot, Zuko,” Sokka says, squeezing him tighter than ever. “You’re amazing.”

“I know you must be happy. I know you hated him.” 

“No,” Sokka says, which Zuko knows is at least half a lie. “No, Zuko, of _course_ I’m not. How could I be happy seeing you like this?” 

Zuko sighs and settles against Sokka. 

“But…you deserve better, Zuko.” 

A lie? Not exactly. But true? Definitely not. 

_Better_ is out there – _better_ has blue eyes and a blinding smile and a laugh like no one else – but Zuko definitely doesn’t deserve him. Not one bit. 

Eventually they fall asleep like that, Sokka clinging to Zuko and Zuko refusing to cling back to the fantasy of something _better._

5\. 

Two years go by like wildfire. Zuko is at his own going-away party – he’s all packed up to move across the country to start his dream job – and he’s never been more miserable. Sokka is across the room in the corner, seething and pointedly avoiding eye contact. 

There are games and gags and gifts and Zuko tries his best to be appreciative, he really does, but it’s impossible to ignore the way his roommate is glaring at the ground like it’s burning him. They’re midway through a round of charades when Sokka lets out a particularly loud sigh and rolls his eyes angrily up toward the ceiling. 

“You know what? This party’s over,” Katara says suddenly. 

Aang deflates disappointedly from his pose. “Katara – ”

“No,” Katara snaps. She glares at Zuko and then at Sokka. “ _You boys_ are going to clean this place up and work out whatever is going on between the two of you.” 

The guests begin to filter out of their apartment, and Katara corners Zuko while their friends are distracted. 

“ _Fix this,_ ” she orders with an accusatory finger on his chest. 

And soon it’s just Zuko and Sokka. 

Sokka’s still refusing to look at Zuko. With a huff, he begins to silently gather the bowls of snacks and dips scattered on their coffee table. 

_Fine,_ Zuko thinks, turning away to pick up balled wrapping paper from the living room floor. He just has to get through tonight, and then whatever unexplainable animosity Sokka has developed toward him will be two thousand miles away. 

Sokka disappears with the dishes into the kitchen. There’s more quiet, and then Zuko hears a loud clatter as Sokka tosses the dishes carelessly into the sink without washing them. 

And that does it. 

“What is your _problem?_ ” Zuko snaps, stepping into the kitchen to look Sokka in the eye. 

“What is my _problem?_ ” Sokka yells back. “What is _MY problem?_ ”

“You’ve been a total jerk to me ever since I told you I was leaving!” Zuko doesn’t mean to put it so bluntly, but it’s the truth. “What is it? You just can’t wait for me to move out?”

Sokka’s anger slides more toward offense. “Is that really what you think?”

“What else am I supposed to think with how you’ve been acting?” 

“Me? What about you!?” Sokka shouts accusatorily. “You’re acting like you can’t wait to move a country away from me! What, you took a new job just to avoid me?” 

“That has nothing to do with you!” 

“ _EXACTLY!_ ” 

Sokka’s voice is so loud it shakes Zuko to the core. 

Zuko takes a deep breath before speaking, low and even. “One more night and I’ll be out of your hair, Sokka. And then you won’t have to deal with me ever again. You can just forget about me.” 

Sokka stares at him, and slowly begins to shake his head. “God, you just have no idea, do you?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You think I want to _forget_ about you? Are you being serious right now?” 

Zuko looks blankly at him. “Well, you – ”

“Zuko, you took a job across the _fucking country_ and you didn’t even bother to – to tell me you were applying, or – or ask me to move there with you – and now you’re just _abandoning_ me? And I’m supposed to be okay with that? I’m just supposed to _forget you?_ ” 

One part of Sokka’s rant stands out against the rest. “Move there with me?” Zuko repeats, anger fully dissipated and replaced with consuming confusion. “Sokka, what – why would you want to do that?”

Sokka chokes out a humorless laugh. 

“Because I _love you,_ Zuko. Because I’m _in love with you._ ”

Whatever words Zuko might have said melt away on his tongue. 

_Because I’m in love with you._

Zuko is stunned. He’s hearing the words, but they don’t make any sense. 

Sokka is still talking. “Zuko, I’d follow you anywhere on earth if you’d let me. But you’ve made it clear that’s not what you want. And I can respect that, but it doesn’t mean I can pretend to be happy about it.”

But Zuko’s still trying to work out his words from before. 

“You…” Zuko tries, like he’s speaking another language. “You…love. Me?” 

Sokka’s eyes go wide, like he’s just now realizing what he said. The fight in him is suddenly gone, and he looks a little fearful. “I…yes. Yes.”

“Since when?”

“Since…well, since – since a long time ago.” Sokka looks sheepish. “I mean, I didn’t even really realize it until recently. But now, looking back, it’s like…it’s like I’ve always felt like this. It’s always been a part of me. 

“Loving me?” 

“…yes.” Sokka covers his eyes with his hands. “Ugh, this is _so_ not how I imagined telling you. I’m so, so sorry for yelling at you, Zuko. I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole to you lately. I can’t believe I said all that shit. I didn’t mean any of it.” 

The tectonic plates that define the borders of Zuko’s world are shifting, and Zuko feels like he’s about to be crushed. _Sokka_ and _love_ are two continents with an ocean of distance between them; Zuko has never dared attempt that treacherous voyage, has known all along the journey would be a fool’s errand. And yet now those pieces are locking into place like they’ve fit together perfectly all this time. 

Zuko needs to sit down before the earth beneath his feet gives out. 

Without a word, he turns and floats into the living room, where he collapses onto their couch. Sokka is scrambling to follow behind him, and as Zuko hits the cushions Sokka is materializing right there next to him. His blue eyes have never been wider. 

“You love me.” Zuko tastes the words in his mouth. They’re different. New. But they taste good. 

“…Yes,” Sokka breathes. 

“You love _me._ ”

“I love _you._ ”

“Me?”

“Yes, Zuko, please, _yes,_ I love you. I’m not going to change my mind about this, so please, just…please listen to me. I love you. I’m so in love with you I think it might kill me.”

Sokka looks absolutely terrified.

And all at once, Zuko realizes how reaction must look.

He springs up from the back of the sofa. “No! No, Sokka, no, I don’t mean it like that! I just mean…” Zuko searches for the right words. “It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“What are you – ”

“Sokka,” Zuko cuts him off, because he has to get this out before it burns a hole in his heart. “I love you. I love you _so much._ Of course I love you.” It feels so good just to _say_ it. Just to put those words out in the air. It’s like letting steam out of a pressure cooker and Zuko doesn’t want to stop until he’s empty. “I’ve loved you since – I don’t even know when. I just never let myself feel it because, well, you’re _you_ and I never thought you would – but I love you. Of course I do. I’ve never stopped loving you.” 

Sokka looks like he’s about to cry. “Zuko – ”

Zuko’s not finished yet. “I never wanted to abandon you. But you were so pissed when I got the job that I thought I had no choice. But Sokka, please,” and Zuko takes both of Sokka’s hands in his own, “ _please_ come with me. And if you won’t then I’ll turn down the job. I don’t care. I love you. _I love you._ ” 

Sokka’s really crying now, but he’s smiling too. He reaches out a hand to cup Zuko’s jaw, and Zuko presses his face into the touch. 

“You…love me?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I love you. So much.” 

Gravity holds their eyes together in an awestruck orbit, and for just a moment Zuko thinks Sokka might kiss him. But then Sokka shoots to his feet. 

“Then let’s get packing!” 

\+ 1. 

It’s a little past 11:00, ten years down the line. Zuko is waking up to the sound of the end credits of _Shrek._ Sokka is dozing beside him on the couch with his forehead pressed against Zuko’s shoulder. Izumi is nestled between them, sound asleep and drooling a little on Sokka’s stomach. 

Zuko moves slowly as he carefully attempts to disentangle himself from the pile of sleeping bodies. Freed, he grabs the remote and switches off the movie. There’s a bowl of popcorn kernels on the coffee table in front of them, and Zuko picks it up to carry it off to the kitchen. 

He can’t help but sneak a peak at Sokka and their perfect little daughter, not when the two are actually standing still at the same time for the first time Zuko can remember since Izumi came into their lives. The years have been good to Sokka, Zuko thinks as his eyes rake over Sokka’s sleeping figure. He’s grown more broad, more tall, more tan (except for a little band around his left ring finger that hasn’t seen sun in a while and probably never will again). But some things never change, like the smile he gives Zuko as he stirs slowly awake in Zuko’s absence. 

“Hey, handsome,” he whispers, careful not to move a muscle.

“Hey, you.” 

“Want me to help you with that?” Sokka flicks his nose toward the popcorn bowl. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got it. Let her sleep a little longer.” 

Sokka grins, then puckers his lips into a ridiculous kissy face. Of course Zuko can’t help but roll his eyes and lean over and kiss Sokka like he’s confessing all over again. 

Sokka lets out an almost painfully contented sigh as Zuko pulls away. “I love you. So much.” 

“I love you, too.” 

It’s amazing, and Zuko knows he’ll never have to leave.


End file.
